


your hand in my hand, so still and discreet

by babyiknow



Category: The Half of It (2020)
Genre: F/F, Hanahaki Disease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:13:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24825853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyiknow/pseuds/babyiknow
Summary: It’s after the note comes back, Aster’s loopy handwriting slanting into Paul’s name, that the petals come.
Relationships: Edwin Chu & Ellie Chu, Ellie Chu & Aster Flores, Ellie Chu/Aster Flores
Comments: 12
Kudos: 230
Collections: oh YES





	1. Chapter 1

“These hallways are murder,” Ellie looks up, and her breath catches in her throat, the wide grin and wavy hair mixed with the breezy scent of flour and basil overwhelming her senses. 

She was already having a frustrating day, cursed to listen to irritating on-hold music for an impossible extension on her bill. The cliched book-drop in the hallway was just the icing on the cake- making this her first  _ real _ bad day in a week. 

She shakes herself out of her thoughts, and she already knows the expression on her face is rivaling Bambi’s, but it’s not every day that your crush for nearly three years speaks to you. Literally, it’s only about three or four times, the entirety of her high school experience. She’s counted.

“I’m Ellie Chu.” Her brain is on fire, the controls broken, panic switch having been pulled the moment she heard Aster’s slow rasp.  _ I’m Ellie Chu I’m Ellie Chu I’m Ellie Chu  _ runs through her head like a banner behind a plane. 

“I know,” Aster grins at her, like her mind-numbing idiocy was a witty joke. “You’ve only been playing my dad’s services every Sunday for, like, four years. You’re his favorite heathen.” Ellie’s eyes drop to where Aster’s lips quirk around the words, fondly, the gloss shimmering under the horrible school lighting. She only looks back up when Aster’s tongue touches her teeth, “...all that barely repressed longing.” Ellie panics, but calms when the brunette’s thumb taps her book. 

Their hands touch when Aster hands her phone back, and Ellie coughs into her elbow after the shock of Aster’s soft skin wears off. 

  
  


Ellie agrees to writing the letter only  _ after _ she’s paid, transferring the Venmo safely to her bank account before setting pen to paper. She knows it’s ludicrous, masochistic, even, but she needs the money,  _ and _ she knows the material, for lack of better phrasing. 

She seals it, because you can never be too careful in a town where girls who love girls go to hell, and she almost laughs when Paul points it out. Maybe being gay  _ will _ send her to hell, but it’ll at least get her bills paid. 

It’s after the note comes back, Aster’s loopy handwriting slanting into Paul’s name, that the petals come. 

Ellie knows what it is. She’s never  _ not  _ known what it is. Her father taught her about it over time, in Mandarin, his voice dipping emotionally at the mention of Ellie’s mother, and his own bout of petals, before their first kiss, when his lungs were  _ just _ beginning to fill with roots, and his tongue  _ barely  _ tasting the bitter grit of the flowers. 

Ellie sees realistically what’s going to happen, but she can’t help but hope. 

Paul asks her to listen in on their first date, at Sparky’s, (because where else would it be?) and Ellie almost spits up  _ no  _ petals, the date is  _ that bad.  _ But, she hears Aster’s raspy laugh, bursting from her throat, free and loose, and she breaks her record, pulling the plastic-lined wastebasket between her knees, emptying the contents of her stomach, orange carnations, rose petals, and daffodils. They come in waves, and she gulps greedy breaths in between heaves. Tears are streaming out of her eyes, her nose running and lips chapped afterwards. 

“What’s wrong?  _ Nǐ shēntǐ hǎo ma _ ?” Ellie’s dad opens the door a crack, and Ellie pushes the wastebasket behind her legs, hiding the petals from his view. 

“Yes,  _ Ba _ , I’m okay. Just have a tickle in my throat, that’s all.” Ellie’s father smiles softly, and leaves with a promise to return with a peppermint tea. She thanks him, and her voice is gravelly, raw. 

  
  


Their second date is better, by far, and she smiles in spite of the pain in her lungs, the press of thorns against the front of her chest, because Paul’s goofy, lovesick smile makes it  _ worth it,  _ almost, but it’s Aster’s eager,  _ all-there _ smile that seals the deal. Because if Aster finds what she’s looking for in Paul, in his kind heart and soft, laundry detergent-smelling hugs, then Ellie’s happy. She’s happy to fade into the background, until her role in their lives peters off. 

Ellie writes, and writes, and  _ writes  _ to Aster, words flowing out of her like petals, each one pressed into Ellie’s hair, the heavy floral scent ingrained in her skin, like a deathly perfume. Her father must know, if the solemn, understanding looks he sends her way are any indicator. Sometimes, at night, she’ll close her eyes, and pretend it’s  _ her  _ Aster is smiling at, laughing, grinning, kissing, like she’s  _ worthwhile,  _ like she means something. 

  
  


Ellie breathes tightly before the talent show, wringing her hands and bouncing in place, while  _ Trig _ of all people performs before her. She doesn’t necessarily  _ like _ Trig’s performance, but she can’t deny its entertainment value. She’s looking into the crowd, pondering  _ where  _ and  _ how  _ everyone got those glowsticks, when she sees the familiar wavy brown hair slip into the back row, catching the end of Trig’s show. 

_ Aster,  _ her soul sighs, and she leans forward, the vines clogging her chest tangibly drawn to the brunette’s person. She pushes the piano towards the center of the stage, her arms weaker than usual, and begins the solemn melody she’s chosen for the occasion, almost blindy snatching a piece of sheet music from her collection. 

Ellie can’t muster up a fuck to give when the piano string plunks brokenly for the second time, spinning on the bench and grabbing the neck of the acoustic Paul slides towards her. She thanks him silently, and his goofy grin inspires a calm in her that she hasn’t felt in a while. When her eyes drift up from where she’s situating her finger’s over the frets, giving a few test strums, she catches the curious once-over Aster gives her, and with those brown-green eyes anchoring her, she plays her song, simple and sweet. 

She can’t help but feel the crowd’s standing ovation and applause are somewhat of a last hurrah. 

There’s something telling in the way that the alcohol burning down her throat soothes the climbing vines in her windpipe. She plays the games the other, nameless classmates suggest, she drinks from the cups they hand her, and when the bottle lands on her, she kisses the girl who complements her nails in the cramped bathroom against the white sink. She threads her hand through noticeably  _ straight  _ brown locks, pushing off the dark beanie. The brunette responds with equal fervor, sliding her hands under Ellie’s jacket, gripping her hips and  _ pressing.  _ The alcohol clouds her judgement in an auspicious fashion, rose-tinting the gray world of Squahamish. 

She accepts Paul’s offer to go home though, when he pops up out of the blue. She’s been out of the real world for long enough, she can’t run forever. 

Her lips and her waist are bruised from the brunette’s mouth and hands, and she chokes down the aspirin Paul leaves by her-  _ his  _ bedside, apparently. 

“-you can leave it in his room, though-” And Ellie hears it. The slow, smooth rasp, and the  _ grin,  _ she can hear it around the words. She bolts up like she’s touched a livewire, like she’s not hungover and five pounds lighter than she was last week. 

“Ellie. Hi.” Ellie coughs at her own name in Aster’s mouth. And when Aster questions the nature of her and Paul’s relationship, she almost laughs. Instead, a wry grin spreads across her face and she shakes her head, pushing past the brunette with excuses of  _ the station.  _

“Can I come?”  _ Now that she didn’t expect.  _

Her heart plummets to her stomach then jumps into her throat when Aster runs after the train, the gentle wind swishing her skirt against her knees, and Aster smiles at her like she  _ understands,  _ like she can read Ellie’s mind, and Ellie wishes she could. 

The hot springs are, for lack of a better word,  _ hot.  _ The water feels good on Ellie’s snow-capped skin, stretched tight around her ribs, and Aster looks a little sad at her thin form. Ellie turns away, the only thing worse than Aster’s grins were her frowns. She hugs her arms to her heavily-clothed chest.

“I just- I feel like, when we’re together, Paul is-” Aster cuts herself off, looking away, and she swallows once, twice. 

“What?” Ellie  _ hates _ herself, hates the shameful leap of hope that aches in her throat, as if Aster would find out and love  _ Ellie.  _ She forces her tone into something less... just,  _ less.  _ “Paul is what?” Aster tilts her head, and her eyes penetrate Ellie further, searching the smaller girl’s face. 

“It’s like he’s a different person.” Aster shakes her head, and Ellie scrambles for a comforting phrase.

“Well, I know he gets  _ nervous-” _

“But it’s not that! I would get it, I was nervous, too, when he took me to Sparky’s for the first time, but,” Ellie coughs into her elbow as quietly as she can, “-but, it’s almost like… It’s almost like he’s not writing the letters. He didn't even argue when I said that J.K Rowling was a better author than Kazuo Ishiguro!” 

Ellie snorts, automatically, but covers her nose when Aster’s eyes narrow. “What.” The brunette draws in, a wall behind her eyes shutting, and Ellie searches for an excuse.

“It’s not- I’m not laughing at you! I just, J.K  _ Rowling _ ? Better than Ishiguro? As if!” Aster’s face lights up in a grin, and she touches her knuckles to Ellie’s arm. Ellie blushes at the contact, which only serves to widen Aster’s smile. 

“I didn’t know  _ both  _ you and Paul were so bookish. That must be why you’re friends?”  _ Fuck. Fuck. Shit. _

“No, actually, we’re friends because I had to... _ um _ … tutor him! In English!” Ellie lies.

“I wonder how he’s so good at writing, then… I guess it’s just because he had a  _ good tutor _ !” Aster laughs, nudging the same place on Ellie’s arm. Ellie giggles. 

“Yeah…” Ellie curses herself for being so socially inept, and settles for looking down self consciously. 

When Aster drops her off that night, Ellie can almost feel her grin warm herself from the inside, like the vines are retracting, and she smiles back, pulling her wet sleeves around her fists. 

The petals turn red when Aster kisses Paul, yanking him down by his shirt to press her lips roughly against his, and it’s her father who finds her, supporting Ellie’s weak, thin body up so the bloody petals stay contained to the toilet, but it’s no use, the red spreads around her like handprints, blooming over the white tiles of the bathroom floor, and it’s the second time she’s ever seen her father cry. She knows she’s a goner when she wakes up the next morning, weary and tired, to her father sitting at the kitchen table, his glasses pushed up the bridge of his nose, the bills on the table in front of him. 

She drinks a glass of water and showers, washing the red from under her nails, and it’s a time of firsts for her, she realizes, when she picks up her beat-up phone and asks Paul for a ride to school. 

“You don’t look so good, El, maybe you should stay home today.” And Ellie thinks it over, seriously considers it, but shakes her head. 

“No, I’ll be fine. I had a late night writing Trig’s final English paper.” Her and Paul’s noses both wrinkle at the boy’s name, but Paul’s straightens quickly. 

“Hey, so last night I- Ellie?” Her head is between her knees, and she dry heaves twice before looking back at him, chapped lips parted, eyes glassy.

“ _ Yeah _ , I’m taking you home.” 

  
  


“Hey, uh, Paul?” Aster blushes self-consciously when he looks back at her, grinning dopily at her, like a puppy dog in love. 

“What’s up, Flores?” She rolls her eyes at his dudebro voice, and pauses. 

“Um, how’s Ellie? I know you two are friends, and honestly I- it’s not like I’ve been, you know,  _ stalking  _ her or anything,”  _ Way to go Aster, keep it up, keep talking.  _ “-but, she seems like, sick, or something. Like, just- yeah.”  _ Good job.  _

“Oh, yeah, I’m worried about her. She just keeps telling me she’s fine though, but Edwin-  _ her dad _ \- he uh, he’s worried too.” Aster thinks about the way her fingers stumbled across the keys at choir practice, how she seems to be losing two pounds nearly every day that passes, and the small girl’s frequent heaving coughs in class. 

“Would- do you think she’d be happy to see me? Like- I mean, could I visit her?” Paul nods, smiling nervously. 

“Yeah dude, that’d be cool. But I just have to say, her dad’s got her loaded on cough syrup. There’s no telling what she’s gonna say.” 

  
  


Ellie’s house is…  _ quaint. _ It’s an easy one-person-at-a-time hallway situation, the walkways narrow, the ceiling hanging short, and she thanks Ellie’s dad softly, after he leads her to Ellie’s room, and the short man taps her arm and smiles. “You’re welcome.” he says in a thick accent. 

The girl in question is passed out, snoring, and Aster giggles at the soft little whinnies that escape her throat, unlike her father’s snores, which have the ability to wake everyone in her house. She brushes a portion of hair from Ellie’s forehead, and her stomach twists. It’s  _ confusing,  _ what she feels for Ellie. Not  _ friends,  _ but not a _ cquaintances _ . It’s- it’s  _ romantic,  _ it’s  _ soft  _ and  _ warm  _ and everything she’s never felt with Trig or even Paul, and with Ellie’s soft cheek under her hand, she  _ understands.  _ And it’s not  _ shameful,  _ it’s not a falling feeling, or an electric shock, it’s like when she submerges her head in the hot spring waters, it’s like clarity, like a light in the darkness. 

_“Oh.”_ And she remembers the familiar verse her father often references in his sermons. _“If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples._ _Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”_

A tap on her arm pulls her out of her reverie, and she jumps when Paul’s goofy grin slips into her line of vision. 

“ _ Shit,  _ Paul!” Ellie blinks her eyes open just as Paul slides his arm around her shoulders, and the small girl’s face goes white at the sight. Her pupils flick from Aster to Paul, then back to Aster, and suddenly she’s heaving, tipping over the side of the bed to situate her face over the wastebasket, and Aster gasps at the blood-red substance pouring out- it’s, it’s  _ blood,  _ but something more, it’s-

It’s  _ flower petals.  _

Aster researches almost manically when she gets home, after Ellie’s dad swooped into her room and shooed the couple out. She scours her books, her dad’s books, and the internet until-  _ one-sided love...coughs up flower petals… ends when… _

It  _ must  _ be Paul, she thinks, but she can’t quite tamp the tiny flicker of hope that burns in her stomach, that  _ maybe  _ it’s her, that  _ maybe  _ Ellie has feelings-

She cuts her thinking off, the maybes becoming so loud that she worries her father hears them through the thin walls of her bedroom, and she digs her nails into the scruff of her quilt. 

  
  


It’s a normal Sunday, a good one, even. Her mother makes eggs and toast that she douses in Cholula and washes down with plenty of orange juice. Her father smiles at her in a way he hasn’t in a while, like he’s proud of her, like she’s holy. She holds her sister’s hand on the way into the chapel, and there’s a smile on her face when she hears the familiar quick-fingered notes of Ellie’s favorite hymn, (she knows it’s her favorite from the way she leans into the piano, the way the notes flow like honey from the tightly tuned strings). 

Her Sunday is ruined when Trig opens his big, stupid,  _ dramatic  _ mouth, and she forces a smile and nods after taking his too-soft hand, a hand that’s never done a day’s work in its life. It’s a surprise when Paul stands up to speak, and it’s an even bigger surprise when Ellie Chu takes one look at Aster, and her eyes roll back in her head, and she  _ dies  _ on the floor of Aster’s father’s church, in front of the stained glass windows and the choir and the children. 

  
  


_ Okay,  _ so she doesn’t  _ die.  _ But when Aster finally wakes her after having wormed her way into the ambulance, there’s an outpour of petal’s from Ellie’s mouth, jerking her thin body from the stretcher, and Aster’s heart aches for the smaller girl. She sobs, turning Ellie’s head towards her own, and brushes the wild strands of hair from her forehead. 

“ _ Please, please, please,”  _ She chants, whispering prayers into the soft fabric of Ellie’s layered shirts. Ellie just gasps in between coughs, gripping Aster’s hand weakly, a lifeline, and Aster can feel the small girl’s heartbeat in her fingertips, it reverberates through her chest. 

“I-” She chokes, her own salty tears mixing with Ellie’s, “I  _ love you.”  _ Ellie’s eyes widen, and Aster just sobs into Ellie’s cheek, her hair, anywhere she can smell Ellie’s earthy jasmine and five-spice powder scent over the blood. 

“Aster, I-” A wave of coughing racks Ellie’s body, and Aster smooths her hair down frantically.

“Please, Ellie, stay with me, please,” Ellie’s skin pales again, and the only sounds in the ambulance are the monitors beeping, and Aster’s broken sobs. 

  
  


The hospital lights do nothing good for Ellie’s skin, making the smaller girl look paler than she already is, her skin stretched tightly over her cheekbones, the purple under her eyes standing out like bruises. But Aster is just as enamored with her anyway. 

“Ellie,” Ellie’s father is passed out beside her bed, in the seemingly uncomfortable chair, and the floral arrangements and cards give the room a funhouse-brightness tint. 

Ellie blinks her eyes open, and Aster perches on the side of her bed. There’s an IV hooked up to Ellie’s arm, and by the glassy hue of Ellie’s eyes, the drugs are  _ good.  _

“Aster,” Her reply is stunted, pronounced As-ter, a pause between the syllables. 

“How are you?” Aster whispers softly, leaning in for Ellie to hear her better. 

“My chest  _ hurts.”  _ Ellie whines, poking her ribs and pouting, and under any other circumstances, this would probably be the cutest thing Aster’s ever seen.

“I know baby, I know. Let’s lie down, okay? Take a couple sips of water.” Ellie obliges, sipping her water from the cup in Aster’s hand, and Aster smooths a palm down the smaller girl’s back, supporting her as she tries to lay down. 

_ “Your fault.”  _ Ellie whimpers softly, and Aster double takes. 

“What did you say?” Ellie’s eyes flutter open again, and she blinks sadly at the brunette.

“I  _ said,  _ ‘ts  _ your fault.  _ Your fault I’m sick.” Aster’s breath catches in her throat, and that stupid flicker of hope ignites in her belly, growing by the minute. 

“How?”

“Huh?” Ellie clearly needs to rest, Aster knows this, but she  _ needs _ to know- she can’t  _ wonder  _ any more. 

“Why are you sick?” Ellie groans, and grapples around the sheets for Aster’s hand. Aster flips it, palm-up, to grab Ellie’s, running her thumb over the smaller girl’s knuckles. 

“It’s your fault- ‘cuz I loved you too much. It killed me.” Ellie hovers her hand over her chest, and Aster whimpers. 

“I- Ellie,” Ellie looks up at her, and Aster  _ sees it.  _ The  _ longing,  _ the desperate  _ yearning,  _ Aster  _ feels  _ it. “ _ I love you, too.  _ I love you too, Ellie.” She leans down, and Ellie’s still staring up at her, that quiet understanding still shining through the dizzy drugs given to her. 

Aster kisses her forehead, and Ellie whines a bit, reaching her free hand up to paw weakly at Aster’s shoulder. Aster obliges easily, she’s pretty sure Ellie could ask for the moon and she’d reply with a blunt  _ of course.  _ She lays down next to the smaller girl, shuffling a bit to fit into the hospital bed, minding Ellie’s IV. 

“Want you. To kiss me.” Ellie mutters, closing her eyes and pressing her hairline to Aster’s collarbone. 

Aster blushes and sneaks a glance towards Ellie’s father, still snoring soundly in the corner, and runs a palm over the back of Ellie’s head. “I will, baby.” 

  
  


Aster doesn’t really leave the hospital all that much while Ellie’s there, Paul brings her a bag of clothes and toiletries, and a tupperware of enchiladas her mom made, as well as a takeout container of  _ taco sausages.  _ A note is taped carefully over the lid, stating  _ I’m Sorry,  _ in Paul’s boxy handwriting. 

“Make sure Ellie gets this. A-and, tell her I… tell her to feel better soon. From Paul!” He grins goofily, and Aster smiles reflexively at the small pull of Ellie’s lip when she reads the note. 

“He, um- he called me a  _ sinner. _ ” Ellie scoffs, but Aster sees it, the same loneliness she mentioned at the hot spring, and Aster curses herself again for not having befriended the girl sooner. 

“You’re not a sinner, Ellie.”

“I-”

“You’re not. I know you don’t believe in God, but. Even if you did, nothing you feel is- is  _ wrong. _ You’re the most  _ right  _ person I’ve ever met.” Ellie smiles, and tucks her hair behind her ear, loose and dark across the pillow, the IV drip finally making its exit after a week and a half. She sits up in bed, and Aster automatically reaches behind her to adjust the pillows. 

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I’m fine now-” Aster pulls back, and her nose grazes Ellie’s, her face stalling inches away from the other. Ellie inhales sharply, and her eyes dart from Aster’s lips back up to her eyes. “Aster…”

_ “Ellie.”  _ Aster leans in further, pressing their lips together, gently cradling the smaller girl’s head. Ellie responds immediately, framing her hands around Aster’s neck, smoothing them over her shoulders, and she presses closer, deepening the kiss. 

Aster’s never felt anything like this before, simultaneously surreal and hyper-focused at the same time. Ellie’s not like the one other girl she kissed; Kelly, on a dare, who tasted like cherry lip gloss, and cold, uninterested lips pecking hers for a quick second. Where Kelly was sweet, Ellie was savory. A hint of spice, like drinking a hot cup of apple cider, her kisses held heat. Kissing Ellie is what humming feels like, like warm winter coats and those packets that heat up in your gloves when you squeeze them. Aster breaks away, breathing hard, and she knows she’s flushed down to her chest like an idiot, but- kissing hasn’t ever felt like this before, like she wants  _ more _ . It’s never made her squirm and  _ ache  _ before. 

_ “Wow.”  _ Ellie mutters, and Aster nods dumbfoundedly, before leaning in and capturing her lips over again. 


	2. Chapter 2

It’s a  _ complete  _ coincidence when Aster chooses an art school in Iowa, less than an hour away from Grinnell, a point she makes  _ incredibly  _ clear, despite Paul’s and Ellie’s knowing looks when she tells them her college plans. Her father is less than excited, but Ellie’s pleased grin more than makes up for it. 

Paul and Ellie’s father see them off, and Aster smiles at the gentle hug Ellie wraps Mr. Chu in, and the bear hug that Paul lifts her up into. 

They ride the train together, and Aster relishes in this closeness she feels with the smaller girl, linked by their hands knotted together, and the single earbud in one of their ears, playing soft, happy music. Ellie’s thumb brushes absentmindedly over her hand, her eyes tracking the lines of the novel she brought from home. 

It’s as if Ellie feels Aster looking at her, because she glances up from her book, and Aster smiles at her, bringing her leg up and over Ellie’s own, and Ellie lifts her arms to settle over it. 

“Kiss me.” Aster says, suddenly, and Ellie’s face starts, before she grins a bit and leans in. 

They spend their weekends together, and some weekdays when their classes end early. Aster knows they look like the sickening, dopey couple that she would have turned her nose up at in high school, but every time she sees Ellie she finds something  _ new  _ to love about her. 

“Hey, El,” Ellie looks down at Aster, the brunette’s head resting in her lap, her hands occupied with her hair. 

“What’s up?” Aster smiles at the way Ellie’s loose hair falls over her shoulder. 

“Why do you only cuff one side of your jeans?” Ellie’s eyes widen at the question. 

“Oh, I- I didn’t think anyone noticed,” She clears her throat. “My mom used to do it for me, and she’d always only do one. I-um, I don’t know why, but.” She shrugs, and Aster smiles softly. 

“What was she like?” Ellie buries her hands in Aster’s hair again, gently threading her fingers through the strands, and Aster closes her eyes. 

“She was… young. And funny, and beautiful. She was always dressing in these colorful outfits, and she sang in the car, and she told me stories before I went to sleep.” Ellie nods, apparently finishes with her description, and Aster raises her hand to brush Ellie’s cheek. 

“She sounds like a really good mom.” 

“She was.” And Ellie leans down, and kisses Aster’s forehead, short and sweet, and goes back to her novel, twisting strands of Aster’s hair between her fingers. 

In college, Ellie  _ blossoms.  _ Aster sees it, she sees the way Ellie’s shoulders almost  _ lift _ , she sees in the way Ellie smiles more, stops layering her clothing to the point of heatstroke, the way her eyes take on a curious glint. 

Aster stops by one afternoon, her classes having been cancelled due to a gas leak, after telling her roommate, Rachel, that she'd be out for the weekend. She wanders over to the building where Ellie’s last class is taking place, already knowing her schedule by heart. She leans against the doorway, and catches the last fifteen minutes of the class, in which Elie joins two debates, starts at least one, and Aster feels her insides literally  _ soften  _ at how much she loves the smaller girl. 

Ellie’s talking to her friend,  _ Abby, if Aster remembers correctly,  _ as she walks out of the lecture hall, but when her eyes land on Aster, it’s like her face comes alive. It starts in her mouth, which twitches upward in surprise, and the rest of her face follows. She says something to Abby who nods, then she’s jogging the rest of the way towards Aster, who catches her in her arms, spinning her once. 

“I thought you were coming tomorrow! What happened?” Ellie pulls back, keeping her hands loosely on Aster’s waist. 

“A gas leak in the main pottery building, I don’t have classes ‘til Monday.” Ellie grins, and Aster throws an arm over the shorter girl’s shoulders while they walk back to Ellie’s dorm. 

Ellie’s roommate, Georgia, is nice, and her boyfriend goes to Iowa State, so she’s often gone on weekends too, and she greets Ellie and Aster as they walk in the dorm. 

“Oh! Hi guys! I’m leaving in like, twenty minutes, so I don’t have a ton of time, but…” She throws some clothes in a small duffel. “And sorry for the mess.” She gestures to the circle of clothes around her side of the room. 

“No problem, Georgia. You going to Ames?”Georgia nods, her wild brown curls bouncing, and looks up at the two girls. 

“Yeah. Ryan’s got a big game this weekend, so I might not be back until Monday afternoon. Don’t touch my Nutella. I’m lookin’ at you, Flores.” Aster raises her hands in surprise, and she hops onto Ellie’s bed with a huff. 

“It was  _ one time,  _ Georgia. You mention it every time I’m here.” 

_ “One time too many,  _ Aster.” Georgia pulls a headband over her curls, and throws her bag over her shoulder. “Bye, ladies. Have a good weekend!” 

“You too!” Aster and Ellie wave at the brunette, and the door closes behind her. Ellie falls back onto the bed, sighing, and Aster immediately reaches for her. Ellie obliges, throwing a leg over Aster’s thighs, and settling herself down into the taller girl’s lap. 

“Are you going home for Christmas?” Ellie asks, because she knows neither of them are going home for Thanksgiving. She brushes Aster’s hair from her face, and Aster pulls her closer with a hand on the small of her back. 

“I don’t know. I think so, but…” She trails off, and Ellie nods. 

“Look, if you don’t want to tell your parents anything, you don’t have to. There’s no pressure, if you’re not ready, you’re not ready.” Ellie shrugs, and Aster melts at how understanding her eyes are. 

“But, I  _ do  _ want to. I want to tell them, and I want them to smile and say  _ congratulations _ and I  _ want  _ my mom to invite you over for dinner and I  _ want  _ you to meet my little sister, and… I want  _ all _ of it.” Aster sniffles, and Ellie wraps her arms around Aster’s shoulders, pulling her closer. 

“I get it, you want them to accept you. I was afraid to tell my dad, too, although- I know it;s not the same situation, but. I’ll be there for you, no matter what decision you make.” Aster pulls back from the embrace, and nods, before wiping the moisture on her cheeks off. 

“Thank you, Ellie.” 

“Of course.” And Ellie’s just so  _ eager,  _ her big brown eyes warm and loving, and Aster wants to burrow into her, to shed her skin and crawl into Ellie’s, where she’ll be safe, and happy, and  _ held.  _

Suddenly, Aster can’t get close enough to her, pulling at Ellie’s shirt to draw the girl closer. She presses her lips to Ellie’s,  _ hard,  _ and Ellie responds, matching her intensity. Aster part’s Ellie’s lips with her own, dragging her bottom lip over Ellie’s top one, and Ellie lets out something high-pitched and breathy that Aster wills her to produce again. 

_ “Aster.”  _ Ellie breathes, and shifts her hips downwards onto Aster’s. Aster makes a surprised noise into Ellie’s mouth, and Ellie pulls away, starting to apologize. 

“No, no- it’s okay. Um, do it again?” Ellie’s eyes widen, and she obliges, rolling her hips down into Aster’s. Aster whines, tipping her head back, and she’s surprised again when Ellie starts peppering kisses over her neck, and Aster whines again, low and throaty, and Ellie mumbles her name in awe against her throat. 

Ellie reaches her lips, and Aster kisses her hard, again, lowering herself down to lay on Ellie’s green pillow, which smells like her jasmine shampoo and her orange peel moisturizer. She drags Ellie down by the front of her shirt, and Ellie presses a palm to the back of Aster’s hand, keeping it pressed against her stomach, and she groans into Aster’s mouth when the taller girl untucks Ellie’s navy blouse, sliding her palm under it to press warmly to Elie’s stomach. 

“Off- take it off.” Aster doesn’t need to be told twice, and she quickly undoes the buttons leading down Ellie’s torso, slipping the shirt off her shoulders. She lets herself stare, only for a moments, before wrapping her solid, artist’s hands around Ellie’s waist, drawing them up the shorter girl’s body, and she gathers her courage to slide her hand over Ellie’s nylon sports bra, and Ellie gasps, parting their lips and whimpering. 

“This okay?” Aster asks, and Ellie nods hurriedly.

“Yeah, yeah it just- it felt good. You can do it again.” Aster moves her hand over Ellie’s chest again, and squeezes gently, and Ellie moans into their kisses. 

Aster’s dress rides up as she brackets her legs around Ellie, and the shorter girl smooths her hand over Aster’s thigh, and it’s Aster’s turn to be shocked. Trip was handsy, when they were together, but his touches never made her feel  _ sensitive,  _ overstimulated, like she couldn’t get enough, like she wanted it to go further. She groans, and Ellie’s nimble fingers wrap around to her inner thigh. 

Aster rolls her hips again, trying to find purchase when Ellie slips her leg in between Aster’s thighs, and Aster feels bad for Ellie’s neighbors, having to hear her noisiness in the middle of the day, but the sympathy is short-lived, because she’s shifting her hips downward to meet Ellie’s thigh, and she’s finding a rhythm. There’s a feeling in her stomach, building, and it scares and excites her all at the same time. She needs to stop, she knows, knows her father would have a conniption, but Ellie feels  _ so good _ against her skin. She rolls her hips a few more times, the feeling building until it mounts, and it’s like her bones loosen, like she’s letting go, and her lips fall from Ellie’s, noisy and nonstop, like a train has gone through her chest. 

She’s flushed and panting when she comes down, the red spreading from her chest to her thighs, and Ellie is looking at her with wonder. 

“That was-” They both start, and Aster cracks a grin. “I’ve gotta say, heathen, I know you don’t believe in God, but I think I just saw Him right there.” Ellie laughs, and pushes her shoulder, but she blushes delightedly nevertheless. 

“Yeah? It looked good from up here,” Ellie jokes, and Aster’s face gets impossibly redder. 

“It’s gonna do more than  _ look  _ good, Chu.” Aster flips Ellie, and Ellie’s eyes widen, before they close as soon as Aster’s lips hit her neck. 

  
  
  


Aster loves everything about Ellie, of course, but there’s specific little items of knowledge that she tucks away in a special box in her brain titled ‘Ellie’. Like how her voice is deep, and she never wears makeup, but she’s feminine in the subtlest ways, in the way she brushes her hair before bed, the way her slim fingers button her jeans in the morning, the way she tucks her hair behind her ears when she receives a compliment, or those breathy little noises she makes- okay, Aster  _ has  _ to stop thinking about Ellie in class, or else she’s never going to learn… she glances at the cover of her textbook,  _ Intro to Simulation and Visualization.  _

She sketches while the professor drones on, little hot air balloons and clouds, and little hearts with A and E initials in them. 

“Who’s ‘E’?” Aster starts when a voice to her left whispers the question, and she looks over to see a boy with a vibrant blue jacket and mousy hair looking at her expectantly. 

“Oh, ha- I didn’t know I was doing that. It stands for ‘Ellie’, she’s my, um, my girlfriend.” The boy to her left nods, and grins. “Is she pretty? My name’s Jackson, by the way.” Jackson reminds Aster of Paul, that same sort of puppy-dog innocence in him. 

“I’m Aster. And yeah, she’s pretty, uh- hold on.” She scrolls through her camera roll, finding the picture she took last weekend, of Ellie laughing in the dining hall, the light streaming in yellow against her hair. She shows it to Jackson, who’s eyes widen. 

“Wow. She  _ is  _ pretty.” He hands her the phone back, and they resume listening to the lecture. But she exchanges numbers with him after class, and he lets her borrow his notes, and it’s nice, to make a friend. And Aster certainly doesn’t ignore the pride that swells in her chest when she tells other people of her  _ girlfriend.  _

Thanksgiving passes in a blur, Ellie spending Thanksgiving at Aster’s campus, donning a red sweater and a pair of tight, light wash, high waisted jeans that make Aster’s mouth go dry, and Ellie meets Jackson, and they eat the special turkey dinner that the campus provides, and Ellie sleeps over in Aster’s dorm. 

“I’m thankful for you.” Aster whispers in the dark room, Ellie’s head on her chest, listening to the taller girl’s heartbeat. 

“I love you.” Ellie mumbles back, tired and muffled in Aster’s sweatshirt. It’s not an  _ aha  _ moment, nor does Ellie leave and run away, and Aster whispers in back, pressing a kiss to the top of Ellie’s head and closing her eyes. Aster Flores loves Ellie Chu. Simple as that. 

And she’s telling her parents. 

  
  


“Are you sure? I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you, or that you're obligated to, or anything.” Aster chuckles, and slides her hand up the back of Ellie’s sweater, skimming her bra. Ellie shivers, and looks around the nearly empty train. 

“Jesus, okay, there’s no need to resort to military tactics to get your point across.” Ellie squirms until Aster slides her hand out and takes Ellie’s own. 

“Babe, listen, if anything goes…  _ awry,  _ I’ll let you know ASAP. Okay?” Ellie huffs, but slides an arm over Aster’s shoulders. 

“I’m proud of you, Aster.” Aster beams, and cuddles into the smaller girl. 

“You are?” Ellie nods. 

“Always.” 

  
  


Ellie kisses her when she drops her off at her house, mouthing a quick  _ call me.  _ She drives away when Aster nods, and the brunette squares her shoulders, lifting her suitcase and knocking on the front door. 

Her mother lights up when she answers the door, and ushers her in happily. As soon as she steps foot in the house, her sister is wrapped around her, and she lifts her up into a proper hug. 

“Aster!” Her father’s booming preacher voice startles her, but she sinks into his warm embrace, the kind of hugs only dads can give, and she grins up at him. 

“Hi, papa.” He pulls her under his arm, leading her to the couch, and he sets her bag down outside her bedroom door. 

“How’s college,  _ mija _ ?” She smiles, and launches into tales from her classes, her family listening in with wide, interested eyes. 

“Have you made many friends? What do you do on weekends?” Her mother asks. Aster smiles, gearing herself up for the big confession. 

“Well, I have a lot of friends, but you know, um, Ellie Chu?” Her father nods, smiling a bit,  _ she always was his favorite heathen.  _

“Of course, most talented accompanist our church has seen in  _ years.  _ Why?” 

“Well, she goes to Grinnell, actually.” Her father raises his eyebrows, impressed. “That’s a good school. She must be on scholarship, as well, I can’t see her father paying that bill with the train station money.” Aster rolls her eyes, but adds, “Yes, she’s on nearly a full academic scholarship, she’s really smart.” Just to sweeten the pot. 

“What about her,  _ mija? _ ” Her mother looks at her knowingly, and she takes a deep breath. 

“Well, we hang out a lot on weekends, and, um, she’s- we’re together.” Her mother nods, and looks at her father, who seems confused. 

“You- as in what?” He clarifies, and she clears her throat. 

“We’re dating. She’s my girlfriend.” Her voice gets stronger with each syllable, and her father’s face dawns with realization. 

_ “Oh.  _ I didn’t know, Aster.” She braces herself, for a lecture, or a slap, but instead, “How long have you known? That you don’t like men?” 

“I don’t- I just like Ellie. I haven’t felt anything for anybody before. I started, um, having feelings for her, like, a couple months before summer.” Her father’s face goes through a range of emotions. 

“Well, if I’ve said anything- in the past, that made it difficult for you to tell us, then, I’m sorry,  _ mija.  _ God loves all his children,  _ especially  _ you.” Her mother looks relieved, and her eyes spill over.

“ _ Thank you,  _ papa.” She throws her arms around him, and he chuckles and wraps his own around her, drawing her into his lap like a kid. 

“Of course, my angel.” Her mother wraps her arms around Aster as well. 

“Thank you for telling us.” 

  
  


“Oh my god, Ellie, you wouldn’t  _ believe  _ it! It was amazing!” Aster laughs delightedly, and she hears Ellie’s beaming smile through the phone.

_ “Aster, I’m so proud of you. I knew it would be alright.” _ Aster sighs, and she longs for Ellie’s presence beside her, holding her hand. 

“I wish you were here.” 

_ “I wish I was too.”  _

“They want to meet you, you know. Well, my mom. You know my dad. But like, they want to have you over for dinner!”

_ “Seriously? I’d love to, Aster.”  _ Aster leans back on her pillows, and pulls a book from her nightstand. 

She flips it open to a random page. “Indeed — why should I not admit it? — in that moment, my heart was breaking.” Ellie sighs over the phone.

_ “Read to me?”  _ Aster smiles.

“Of course.” 

"What can we ever gain in forever looking back and blaming ourselves if our lives have not turned out quite as we might have wished? The hard reality is, surely, that for the likes of you and I, there is little choice other than to leave our fate, ultimately, in the hands of those great gentlemen at the hub of this world who employ our services. What is the point in worrying oneself too much about what one could or could not have done to control the course one’s life took?” Aster reads until she hears Ellie’s soft breath even out, and she whispers a quick  _ I love you _ before hanging up. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you look at my previous works you know this is the only au I'm good for. But lemme know if you want anything else written, like suggestions yk


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